


in the morning

by Bitrektual



Category: Captain America (Movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caplock, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13122768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitrektual/pseuds/Bitrektual
Summary: Brief stand-alone drabble. Steve has a habit of waking up early, and this time Sherlock is determined that he won't be alone. But when you're not ready to talk, you're not ready to talk.





	in the morning

he had always been a light sleeper-- even when he was a child the lightest noise would have him up, tossing and turning. so when Steve decided to sit up and throw his legs over the edge of the bed, it took Sherlock no time at all to become alert and concerned for the larger man's actions. he was tired, eyes itchy and still within the grasp of deep sleep as he reached out one hand and grasped at the fabric of Steve's sleeping pants and closed his fist. for one quiet moment, that was it. it was enough to slow Steve, pause him while Sherlock gathered his faculties.

"where are you going, Steve?" and he can hear the man sigh at the question. he knows what's going to come next, so he forces himself to wake up more and sit up. releasing the thin fabric, and doing his best to stay wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, he wraps his arms around muscled shoulders and drapes himself over Steve's body. a deep sigh flows from his lips as he considers how comfortable it would be to fall back to sleep like this. but he can't, because he can sense that something is troubling Steve. was it the softness of the bed or nightmares?

he had missions-- he wouldn't tell Sherlock much about them, but he knew they could arrive suddenly. there was no text, though. no phone call. only Steve and his silence. taking a look at the clock, Sherlock sighs again and kisses Steve's shoulder and neck before gently trying to pull the other back toward the mattress. trying first to silently coax him back to bed. but it didn't work as he felt minor resistence, just enough to send the message that he didn't not want to lie back down. this only strengthens Sherlock's resolve to learn what ails him.

"what's wrong? it's two o'clock, it will be light in just a few hours. you need to come back to bed," he pleads, using his sheets to blanket Steve's shoulders and try to convince him. there is nowhere that Steve has to be tonight, of this Sherlock is certain, so he's not going to give up easily. either they're both getting up, or they're both going back to bed. when Steve rises to his feet, he decides for both of them and Sherlock grudgingly leaves the bed for a dressing gown. he knows Steve is going to fight him on this, but Sherlock is adament and skilled at running on little sleep.

"go back to sleep, Sherlock," Steve tried to protest when Sherlock turned on the lamp so he could see better. only shaking his head, Sherlock pulled on a gown and pulled it closed for warmth. then he approached Steve and pulled him into his arms, kissing him gently on the lips.

"no. not unless you go with me," he stated firmly and was already prepared for this to be the start of his day. judging by his returning memories, it wouldn't be the first or the last time he woke up early or stayed up all night. heading out into Steve's kitchen, he started up some tea while lazily staring out at the view of New York. it wasn't London, but he was happy enough here for now. he would wait for Steve to get himself in order and then corner him before he could leave the apartment. he'd lost count of how many times he'd woken to this-- Steve would wake up and pace for a moment, then he would go out for hours. sometimes until dawn.

for a moment they stand in silence. not used to Sherlock getting up with him, Steve is stunned into silence. his pattern is broken. sighing, he paces to the window and stares out at the night sky. dawn isn't for at least two hours or more. walking up behind him, Sherlock wraps his arms around the muscled frame and squeezes as he plants loving kisses on Steve's shoulders and neck. but the body in his arms is tense and Sherlock can feel the stress with each flex of muscle. he tries to gently massage at Steve's back, but the wearied soldier pulls away and Sherlock looks confused and remorseful.

"it's not your fault," Steve tries to reassure immediately. almost as observant as Sherlock, the man isn't half as bad at reading people as he seems to think. as if in apology, he envelops Sherlock in a hug and returns the affection. but this is wrong! pushing away, he frowns and shakes his head as Steve continues to try and argue before he's had a chance to speak. "go back to bed-- I just want to go out and walk. maybe have a run when the sun comes up--"

"you have to talk to me!"

"Sherlock, please--"

"no, I won't sleep. talk to me, Steve. or don't. but if you leave, I'll be here when you get back," he says, and he knows he won't sleep. he won't be able to, knowing that Steve is out there suffering. "for God's sake, Steve. we've been together for almost two years now, can't you give me something?" he asks, trying not to get angry for something he knows is beyond Steve's control. Sherlock knows how to recognize post-traumatic stress disorder when he sees it-- it takes one to know one. and he knows that it's no simple thing to talk about the nightmares, the pain, the guilt... whatever it was that was eating him. "maybe I can help. maybe I can understand," he offers, but clear Steve does not share this sentiment. the comment almost seems to drive him away, and it's suddenly cold without the man's presence. "wait, Steve!" but it's too late.

"we'll talk later, Sherlock, okay? just... give me some time."

and with that the door closes. again. he is left alone to sit and wonder. he has never loved anyone like he does Steve, and he would like to think that Steve feels the same. but when will he be ready to open up? it was hard to not to feel like, perhaps, he wasn't good enough. but how many times had Steve insisted that he was, healed Sherlock of his own insecurities. and now, when it was time to return the favour, Steve wouldn't let him. with a heavy sigh, he laid back down in bed. but he was wide awake, staring at the clock and waiting for his return.

**Author's Note:**

> unofficially requested by my roleplay partner on Tumblr.


End file.
